Harrowingly Hunted Hannibal
by Waistcoat-Dave
Summary: Dexter Morgan has left Miami and moved to Baltimore to become a blood spatter analyst for the FBI. However, his appearance in Baltimore and his weekly therapy sessions with Dr Hannibal Lecter are all part of a bigger plan. Dexter, Hannibal and Will all have their parts to play in a sinister game orchestrated by a psychotic puppet master.
1. Chapter 1

Harrowingly Hunted Hannibal

Prologue

Doctor Hannibal Lecter sat in his chair making copious notes on his newest patient who was talking in great detail about his new job. Hannibal regarded the man in front of him with something akin to confusion. The man was not in the least bit rude, but nonetheless Hannibal could sense that his patient had a great number of secrets just waiting to be revealed. Regardless of this suspicion the session continued and concluded without any such secrets coming to light, so Hannibal was happy to set up further sessions.

"Would you like weekly sessions or daily?" Hannibal asked, his business planner in hand.

"A weekly session will do for now." The man said with a smile. Hannibal marked him in for recurring sessions every Wednesday at 9:30 PM.

"I will see you next week Mister Morgan." Hannibal said. The man stopped at the door and turned back.

"Please Doctor Lecter, call me Dexter."


	2. Chapter 2

Harrowingly Hunted Hannibal

Part 1

"It's a pleasure to have you on the force Dexter." Jack Crawford said shaking Dexter warmly by the hand.

"It's a pleasure to be here, I really needed a change of scenery." Dexter said with a smile. Jack laughed.

"Y'know Dexter, when people say they need a change of scenery it's so they can _leave _Baltimore and go to Miami. You, my friend, are travelling in the wrong direction." Jack chuckled. Dexter smiled and offered a good natured shrug in a way of response.

"Well Jack, I'm used to helming a boat so when I'm on land I don't know whether I'm coming or going." Dexter responded with what he hoped was a smile and not a nervous grimace.

"With any luck you'll adapt to land quickly, because crime is very much alive and well in Baltimore. You're analytical skills are the stuff of legend…"

"I'm afraid that may just be LaGuerta speaking far too highly of me." Dexter responded modestly.

"Dexter, there is no need for such modesty here. I've assigned you to be teamed up with one of my best agents." Jack said.

"Really?" Dexter asked in surprise. His Dark Passenger squirmed with discomfort, he had worked with one of the best officers down at Miami Metro and that officer was Seargent Doakes. The last thing Dexter or The Dark Passenger needed was another Doakes dogging his every footstep.

"Yes, I think the two of you will get along famously. I presume you've heard of Will Graham." Jack asked.

"Of course I have. Now _he_ is someone with legendary analytical skills." Dexter said, his voice quavering with what Jack assumed was awe, but was in fact fear. Will Graham was the most accomplished and intuitive profilers that the FBI had at their disposal. He could look at a complete stranger and know every last thing about them in mere seconds.

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that." Jack said leading Dexter into a lecture theatre. There was a man with tousled black hair with his back to them, carefully placing folders into his briefcase. Jack cleared his throat loudly and the man turned, surprise etched on his face.

"Jack?" Will Graham asked quizzically.

"Will, I would like you to meet Dexter Morgan." Jack said, gesturing to Dexter. Will removed his glasses and placed them into the top pocket of his tweed jacket. He walked forward, smiling slightly and offered his hand, which Dexter took, perhaps a bit too easily.

"Pleased to meet you Dexter, I'm Will." He said with a smile. Jack was satisfied, Will had seemed to have accepted Dexter with no objections. However, neither Dexter nor Will completely trusted the other. Both of their minds were working heavily to uncover the secrets hidden within their respective psyches. Two minds of such analytical magnitudes working against each other was a dangerous and problematic conflict at best. Will knew that there was more to Dexter than there seemed, but he couldn't work out what it was, he knew that Dexter was not a schizophrenic and yet there seemed to be two very different people inhabiting his body. Dexter could tell that Will Graham was a broken man, mentally rather than physically. Will had seen a great many deaths in his time and this interested Dexter, because he had not come to Baltimore to kill Will, but if he had to, he would. Then Dexter remembered how involved Will Graham was in the hunt for The Chesapeke Ripper, the latest target for The Dark Passenger. Will was not a murderer and Dexter relaxed.

"I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted, perhaps you can show Mister Morgan the ropes." Jack said, with a smile, before leaving for his 10:30 meeting with Alana Bloom.

Will retrieved a file from his suitcase.

"Tell me Dexter, what do you know about The Chesapeke Ripper?" Will asked. Dexter did his best to look utterly mystified and Will handed over the folder. Dexter looked over the pictures and the reports, his eyes wide. He had done his research into his target, but he hadn't been able to find much as the FBI did their best to keep the details away from the public eye. As a result Dexter was shaken to the bone, never had he seen anything so obscene, even the murders conducted by The Trinity Killer seemed positively wholesome compared to the work of The Chesapeke Ripper.

"Do you have any suspects?" Dexter asked, looking up at Will with interest. Dexter had a man in his sights who he believed to be The Chesapeke Ripper and he hoped he was the only one who was harbouring that suspicion.

"Not one. We had narrowed it down to a shortlist of ten, but further investigation reduced my proposed psychological profile to tatters. It appears that the culprit may be a cannibal." Will elaborated, confirming what Dexter already knew. The Dark Passenger swelled with delight, thriving off the joy that came with knowing that he was numerous steps ahead of the great Will Graham.

"A cannibal?" Dexter asked, eyebrows raised in feigned surprise.

"Indeed. I'm currently consulting Dr Lecter to formulate a new, more accurate psychological profile."

"Dr Lecter? _Hannibal _Lecter?" Dexter asked, genuinely surprised for the first time that day.

"Yes, the very same. Do you know him?" Will said curiously.

"He's my psychiatrist." Dexter responded, keen to harvest as much information about Hannibal as he could.

"He's my psychiatrist too, but he's been brought on as a consultant by Jack. Dr Lecter is an expert in behavioural psychology, so he's a great asset to our investigation." Will said enthusiastically. Dexter nodded silently, a sign of understanding, but while his face remained impassive The Dark Passenger was writhing with rage.

"_Working with the FBI. Damn it! This is going to make our job a lot harder, FBI agents don't let the murder of one of their own go unpunished. You remember how quickly they caught Trinity's daughter after she shot Lundy. Hannibal has to die, but you're going to have to exercise a great deal of caution and care."_

Dexter ran his hand through his hair and forced The Dark Passenger to be quiet.

"So, is it a Ripper case you need me to assist with today?" Dexter asked. Will shook his head with a grimace flickering across his face.

"Not today. Another body, another killer." Will said handing a police report to Dexter that had comprehensive details of a macabre fire based murder.

"I've never seen anything like this before." Dexter said, for once lost for words. Will smiled as he led Dexter out of the lecture hall.

"Trial by fire. Welcome to the FBI." Will said as they walked down the corridor.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Harrowingly Haunted Hannibal

Part 2

The barn was part of a farming estate that had not been occupied for a good thirty five years. Will and Dexter were walking in a circle, both walking around the body of the combusted woman, neither of them wanted to miss a single detail. Dexter had insisted that without any blood splatters he would be as good as useless, but Jack had insisted that he come along. There was no possible reason for this other than to show off his new prize to Dr Bloom and Dr Lecter, both of whom were present at the scene. Will closed his eyes and stopped walking, Dexter looked at him with confusion and his eyes widened when Will began to speak.

"I filled the tin bath with gasoline and placed the wooden chair in that bath. I tied my victim to the chair, she was unconscious at the time. I waited for her to wake up and I told her to wake up and I told her who I was and why I was going to kill her, then I lit a match and dropped it into the bath. She burned to death. This is my design." Will finished speaking and slowly opened his eyes, Dexter could see the fear and horror in them. Jack Crawford stepped forward and placed a calming hand on Will's shoulder.

"Thank you Will. Dexter, did you notice anything else?" he asked.

"Yes, on the woman's left hand is a wedding ring, it's melted and merged with the burnt tissue, but it's definitely a wedding ring. She was married." Dexter said calmly. Jack beamed, which was incredibly bad form considering they were at a crime scene.

"Excellent. Once we've done a DNA test, we'll be able to track down and question her husband." Jack said.

As they left the crime scene Dexter was approached by Hannibal.

"Dexter Morgan, it's an unexpected pleasure to see you again." Hannibal said in his usual polite manner.

"Likewise Doctor Lecter. I didn't know you were with the FBI." Dexter responded. Hannibal knew instantly that Dexter had just lied to him, but he didn't know why, he was going to have to get under Dexter's skin during their next session.

Hannibal Lecter entered his kitchen, brightly lit and immaculately clean. He walked over to the wooden block of knives and pulled out a large blade. He examined his reflection in the surface of the knife and smiled ever so slightly, as his mood had been severely dampened by the fact that his newest patient and colleague had already began to lie to him. Something had to be done about that, but now was not an opportune moment. Right now, Hannibal only wished to lose himself in his cooking and he reached for his favourite cook book. He opened his treasured tome at a bookmarked page and found the recipe he was eager to attempt, all that remained was to find _who _was going to be donating the ingredients. Just as he was about to go down into the meat cellar he heard someone knocking at the front door. Hannibal sighed and went to answer it and was surprised to see a nervous looking Will Graham standing there.

"Will, please come in." Hannibal said quickly, graciously inviting Will into his home. Will entered, looking around nervously as if he was fearful of being observed by unseen eyes.

"Do you have company, Doctor Lecter?" Will asked.

"Other than you and I, the house is empty." Hannibal responded calmly.

"Good, that's good." Will said anxiously.

"Will, what's wrong? You're shaking." Hannibal asked, looking at him with concern.

"I think there is more to Dexter than he is letting on." Will said shakily, a sentence which immediately snared Hannibal's interest. Will's acute paranoia may prove invaluable in unravelling the shroud of mystery that surrounded Dexter Morgan.

"What makes you say that?" Hannibal asked, his tone not giving away his profound eagerness for any observations that may prove interesting.

"When Jack introduced me to him I noticed that there was something about him, something in his eyes. It was like there were two separate entities living within him." Will said nervously, not entirely sure that what he was saying was even possible. Lecter listened intently to what his patient, his colleague, his friend was saying.

"Two different entities? Are you suggesting that Dexter is a schizophrenic?" Hannibal asked, careful not to arouse suspicion.

"I'm not sure if it's schizophrenia, but there's a definite darkness within him."

"I see. Is it possible that the only reason you have any misgivings about Mr Morgan is because he's encroaching upon your territory?" Hannibal asked, wondering how Will would interpret the question. He looked up, his eyes communicating that he was upset and hurt by it.

"No! That's got nothing to do with it, my suspicions were aroused the minute I met him, which _proves _that it has nothing to do with jealousy." Will snapped.

"But it also proves that you were just being overly suspicious and your accusations are completely reactionary and totally unsubstantiated by concrete evidence." Hannibal pointed out, his tone as soothing and calm as ever.

"Why are you deliberately trying to poke holes in everything I say? Don't you believe me?" Will asked, the frustration causing his voice to shake. Hannibal placed his hands on Will's shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.

"Will, I want nothing more than to believe you, but at the moment you're not giving me any reason to."

"But…" Will began.

"Go home Will, get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow." Hannibal said, his smooth voice somehow managing to convince Will to go home and sleep, convincing him that he may just be overtired. Hannibal shut the front door and felt a small thrill buzz through his body like a mosquito. If Will believed that Dexter was hiding something then it was more than likely that his suspicions were correct.

Hannibal returned to his kitchen and prepared himself to cook something Italian. He delicately held up a large knife and examined his reflection in the blade, but he noticed something move behind him. Then, he felt a syringe puncture the flesh of his neck and he felt the contents being injected into his bloodstream. In a fit of rage he thrust his elbow backwards and it slammed into the chest of his mystery assailant who grunted with pain and fell backwards. Hannibal yanked the syringe out of his neck and turned around ready to puncture his attacker's eyeballs with it. His vision began to blur as the unknown chemical took its effect and just as Hannibal's vision blurred he saw the face of his assailant.

The face of Dexter Morgan.

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Harrowingly Haunted Hannibal

Part 3

Hannibal's eyes opened slowly, his vision taking an age to transition from blurry to focussed. He looked around and saw that he was surrounded by walls of cling film, he looked down and saw that he was completely naked and pinned to a morticians slab by a large amount of cling film. There were A4 colour photographs cello taped to the makeshift walls. Hannibal vaguely recognised some of the faces, but he didn't have time to remember where exactly he had seen these people, because a figure emerged from the darkness and loomed over him.

"Hannibal Lecter." The figure stated impassively looking down at his prey.

"Dexter Morgan." Hannibal responded looking up at his captor with a faint smile. Dexter picked up a shining silver scalpel from a nearby tray of surgical instruments. He swiftly sliced part of Hannibal's cheek and collected a drop of his blood to add to his blood slide trophy collection.

"Why am I here Mr Morgan? Was your therapy session with me particularly disappointing?" Hannibal asked, remaining far calmer than any of Dexter's previous victims.

"You know why you are here. You know what crimes you have committed Lecter!" Dexter snapped, picking up a large knife and pointing it at the various photos taped to the walls.

"I can assure you that I have _no idea _what you're talking about Mr Morgan." Hannibal said in response, his expression remaining impassive.

"Really? Well maybe I should enlighten you. I am a serial killer, I have been known as The Bay Harbour Butcher."

"I'm afraid that isn't impressive to me Mr Morgan, I have come face to face with more serial killers than you can possibly imagine." Hannibal said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I have a code that I kill by. I only kill other killers, I kill in order to save lives, I don't kill in order to take lives." Dexter snarled.

"I see. In that case Mr Morgan I should probably congratulate you."

"Why would you congratulate me?" Dexter asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, it is an impressive feat to kill every single serial killer between Miami and Baltimore." Hannibal replied.

"I haven't." Dexter said nervously at which point Hannibal's face hardened.

"Then why have you decided to come all the way to Baltimore to kill me when there are still killers roaming the streets of Miami?" Lecter asked, curious and angry.

"Because…" Dexter began, but Hannibal interrupted. As a man who despised rudeness he would rarely interrupt people, but occasionally he had no alternative.

"You were paid, weren't you? You were rewarded financially for placing me top of your list. Am I right?" Hannibal asked in an accusatory tone.

"I am still abiding by the code." Dexter said weakly.

"Who paid you Mr Morgan?"

"I don't know, they contacted me anonymously." Dexter responded.

"Paying someone to kill me, this has the stink of Mason Verger all over it." Hannibal said, his tone betraying the monster lying beneath the surface of Hannibal's debonair exterior.

"Who is Mason Verger?" Dexter asked.

"A man far more deserving of your righteous vengeance than I am. If Verger is the man paying you then your life is in danger regardless of whether or not you kill me. If you truly value your life then you will release me and together we can hunt the real monsters." Hannibal said, his voice calm and oddly seductive and Dexter felt that the only sensible course of action was to release Dr Lecter.

He sliced the cling film away from his captive and helped him to his feet. Hannibal looked down at his exposed form and sighed when Dexter looked away in mild embarrassment.

"It is very cold in here." Hannibal commented.

"Yes, I'm sorry for removing your clothes. It's all part of my process." Dexter said apologetically. Hannibal nodded, making a mental note that Dexter may be a homosexual and whether that could be exploited in any way. He made eye contact with Dexter, placing both hands on his shoulders.

"I perfectly understand Mr Morgan, I have my own very niche process when it comes to killing."

"You do?"

"Oh yes." Hannibal said, his smile widening.

To Be Continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Harrowingly Hunted Hannibal

Part 4

Mason Verger glared down at the man kneeling before him.

"You thought you'd be able to break into my home undetected, kill me and then leave undetected. Tell me, were you dropped on your head when you were a child?" Mason asked his captive.

"I..was…not." The Captive responded slowly, his speech fragmented by his whimpers of fear.

"Well you could have fooled me, you blotchy faced quim!" Mason snapped, spitting in The Captive's face.

"Please…"

"Cease your pathetic pleas; I want to know who sent you to kill me." Mason said, menacingly hunkering down before his prisoner.

"I don't know." He whispered.

"Please don't insult my intelligence. Give. Me. A. Name." Mason said, his voice dropping to a malevolent whisper.

"Tromag. He said his name was Tromag." The prisoner cried in desperation. Mason looked confused for a few moments and then realisation swept over him. He turned to his bodyguards.

"Find my wretch of a sister and bring her to my room." Mason said before turning back to his captive.

"Please don't hurt me." The man whimpered. Mason remained silent and produced a razor blade from within his large coat. He pressed it to the man's left temple and dragged it all the way down to his chin. The skin parted and blood gushed from the cut. The prisoner was weeping, his whole body shuddering. Mason placed his foot against the man's shoulder and pushed, the prisoner tumbled backwards into the large animal pen behind him. The fall was a long one and the hard ground shattered his legs. There was a tunnel leading into the pen and there was a rumbling coming ever closer to the prisoner. Then the horrifically large boars came into view and hurtled towards the man, lured by the scent of his blood. The man screamed as the boars surrounded him and tore viciously at his flesh with the intent of consuming every scrap of meat.

Far above the scene of obscene and savage gore Mason Verger stood, watching his boars with pride. He laughed sadistically as he watched his would be assassin reduced to unrecognisable offal.

When Mason reached his room, he found two of his bodyguards waiting outside.

"Your sister is inside. She's not in the best of tempers, sir." One of them said.

"That's alright, neither am I." Mason said with a twisted smile.

"Very well sir. Shall we enter if we hear screaming?"

"No need. The only screams will be hers. Lock the door behind me." Mason said entering his room and shutting the doors behind him. He heard the click of the locks and with a sick smile he turned to face his sister.

"Mason, what the hell is the meaning of this?" Margot snapped belligerently.

"Just how stupid do you think I am?" Mason snarled.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped. Mason strode across the room, closing the space between himself and his sister in no time. He grabbed her by the throat.

"Someone called Tromag hired an assassin to kill me. Tromag is a very basic anagram of Margot." Mason said, his voice soft yet sinister.

"Well, you're still alive, so you've won once again." Margot spat.

"I may have won, but I want a little payback. Do you remember how I used to punish you when we were children?" Mason said menacingly. Margot's face whitened and she tried to break free from Mason's powerful grip, but she couldn't. Her brother slammed his fist into her stomach and she felt the wind rush out of her mouth. Mason smacked her across the face with the back of his hand, she screamed as she fell to the ground and Mason wasted no time in climbing on top of her and holding her arms down.

"Mason don't…" Margot begged.

"You won't enjoy this." Mason growled.

Outside the room, Mason's bodyguards did their best to block Margot's shrieks of pain from their conscience.

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Harrowingly Hunted Hannibal

Part 5

Will lay in his bed, tossing and turning as he slept fitfully, his fragile mind plagued by inner demons. He found himself walking through a dense area of woodlands, sycamore trees all around him. Far ahead of him he could see several owls silhouetted in the moonlight. Will kept walking forwards despite the owl's hooting driving nails of fear into his heart and soul. In the distance he could see a red curtain slowly materialise, becoming more solid, more real as Will moved closer to it. He stopped mere inches away from the curtain and slowly reached forward. Just as the very tips of his finger brushed against the red fabric Will awoke with a start. He was pouring with sweat and breathing heavily. Getting out of bed, Will walked unsteadily into his kitchen and sat down at the table. He ran both of his hands through his mad curly hair and exhaled heavily. He needed stronger medication to help him get off to sleep, his insomnia was getting worse and the sudden arrival of Dexter Morgan did nothing to steady his nerves.

What would make a blood splatter analyst move from Miami to Baltimore?

More to the point, if Dexter had brought secrets with him to Baltimore, what secrets had he left behind in Miami?

These and more questions whirled around in Will's mind, each one seeming to beg to be considered first.

Will cleared his mind of the swarming thoughts and attempted to inhabit the mind of a man he barely knew. He wasn't sure whether he'd be able to successfully enter the mind of someone he hadn't drawn up a psychological profile of. Regardless of this, Will was at least going to try.

Will Graham closed his eyes…

…and Dexter Morgan opened them.

"I'm a blood splatter analyst. I work for Miami Metro. If I were to kill a person I would know how to do so without leaving a single drop of blood. I would be able to make people disappear without a trace. If any evidence was to lead back to me, I could evade scrutiny, if I was in danger of being exposed. I would have the necessary skills to pass the blame onto someone else. There is nothing that can dissuade me from my task. I am here in Baltimore for one purpose: to kill. This is my design."

Will Graham's eyes snapped open and he let out a long shuddering breath of shock. He quickly retrieved his laptop and logged into the FBI Network. He searched for Dexter Morgan and was rewarded with a wealth about the blood splatter from Miami. There were multiple files about all the cases that Dexter had worked on, however, only a few of them were high profile. Will looked through the case files and one of them struck him as odd. The case of The Bay Harbour Butcher. Something didn't ring true about this case, Will didn't believe that Sergeant Doakes was responsible for any of the murders. It didn't seem to fit in with Doakes' personality, he was quick tempered and liked to talk with his fists, but he wasn't a murderer. Will was now convinced that The Bay Harbour Butcher was more likely to be Dexter rather than James Doakes.

"Found you." Will whispered as he snapped the laptop shut.

To Be Continued…


End file.
